(alright. Finally my continuation is up)
Nothing but peace and calmness, and no one to annoy him. Squall was sleeping in his room. The way the sun shone in a little kept it warm, and the cooling breeze from the air conditioner was rather relaxing. Ignoring all problems in life, he fell asleep.
It was a dream. A really weird one.
He was running. Everywhere was dark, and nothing could be seen. But he still ran. Why was he running? Like the spotlights lighting up at the baseball stadiums, a bright light descended on the ground, right in front of him. A little girl, blonde hair, and crying, was in that circle of light. Squall felt bitter. For some reason he didn't want to see her crying. He reached out for her. Then he stopped. He looked at his own hands. They were little, like the ones of a child around the age of 14. Touching his face, he felt, it was smoother, and smaller even. The girl kept on crying, despite his presence. Squall, looking back at her, kneeled down. His heart ached. He didn't want her to cry.
"Why are you crying he asked her." His voice was child like. Somehow it didn't surprise him. "Please don't cry."
The little girl faced him, "Who are you?" she said, wiping off her tears.
"Me?" Squall pointed to himself. "I'm Squall."
"That's a funny name," she laughed in between little sobs.
Squall felt happier. She wasn't crying now.
"What's your name?" he reached out to hold her hand. Just as he touched it, everything went up in a flash.
His eyes opened. He was lying on his bed, back inside his dorm. It was already at night, and the window was open , letting in the chilled air. Squall got up. His head felt really giddy. What was that dream? His heart felt very bitter, aching, as if crying over something. Shutting the windows, he moved to his desk. A sudden faint came to him. Feeling weak, he collapsed to the floor. His hands, uncontrollable, brought down along the pens and files on his desk, together with the Gunblade casing, with his precious Revolver inside. They all fell on him, but luckily none caused him serious injury.
"Gah," slowly, he got up. Dusting off fragments of pencils and ink from his shirt, he looked down on the floor. The Revolver had came out of its casing. Not wanting any accidents, he bent down to pick it up. Grabbing the revolver by its handle, he slowly admired how much this weapon meant to him. His first Seed mission, it was there to be wielded, hacking off countless enemies. Rather then him protecting her, The Revolver felt more like it was the sole credit that protected Rinoa. Against all odds, this fine work of art, was never remodeled. Squall had bought another one, and refined it many times, till it reached the maximum level of the Lionheart. The Lionheart, the mightiest weapon he had, was still in his possession. But the Revolver. It meant more to him then a lot of stuff.
Then he felt it. A little deep cut into his precious Gunblade. There was a carving ust underneath the handle. Squall, concerned of it's marksmanship, quickly scanned for it. He found it. It was rather amazing how he didn't notice, for, neatly engraved under his sword, was the initials, H.M.
"H.M?" Squall cursed under his breath, "how did this happen?"
The phone rang. Squall, carefully letting down the weapon, picked it up.
"Yeah?" he answered. This had better be good.
It was DR. Odine, "We haz done it."
In Esther, Squall and Rinoa were waiting in Laguna's office. They were called all the way from Balamb to experience this wonderful discovery.
"Think it'll work this time?" Rinoa asked. She was sitting on the couch.
Squall, leaning against a wall, wasn't confident in Odine, "I doubt it. He'll never pull it off."
After a few minutes, Laguna came in, with DR. Odine by his side.
"Evening," Laguna spoke. His hair was pretty messy, and moustache unshaved for a week. Odine was neat and a fashion horror as usual.
"You better make sure it works," Squall walked towards Laguna, "I hate traveling."
Odine laughed, "I assure you, zer iz nothing to be doubtful about."
"When can we try it?" Rinoa asked.
"Az soon as pozzible."
"Great."
A Guardian's Memory. This was an article written by Laguna. It was based on the theory of how GF user's would slowly forget and lose his memories. He interviewed many people and did research, finalizing in his epic book. The news shocked the world. It was now proven.
But this had brought a bad name to Garden. Many Seed's have dropped the use of GFs, concerned of their memory. Squall, worried of Garden's business, had asked the Republic of Esther to help find a cure. After many months of patience, it was done.
"Ze memory is never lost." Odine spoke, as he attached some cable onto Squalls bare chest. They were in a test room, with Squall as the volunteer. It is merely locked away. For ze brain is no mere 'hard drive'. Zu cant just 'delete' a memory. It stayz, forever."
"Shut up and start," Squall cocked.
Odine nodded. He pulled a few switches, and ZAP. Squall went unconscious.
It felt like Hyne had dropped the entire planet on his head. First there was pain, then slowly, peace. It was like in the theatres. A whole gallery stood in front of him. Images and clips of his entire life. But none he could remember. He would have to watch, one by one.
"Hillary," Squall knocked on the door. He was in tears, and very depressed. "Hillary," he knocked again. "Open up, please..."
The door swung open. A little girl, aged 14, with blonde hair and perfect blue eyes was inside. It was the same girl he just dreamt about! Who is she?
"Squall," she spoke, in deep concern, "what's wrong?" She took him in her arms, and hushed him.
"I can't remember..." Squall wept. "Not a thing."
Hillary brought him in and closed the door behind her. She took him to the bed, and sat him down.
"About what?" she stroked his face.
"My past."
Hillary kept quiet for awhile. It was normal for students to be like that. Most of them were orphans, their parents horribly taken from them since their infant age. Even she couldn't remember hers.
"You know," She sat next to him, and laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling up, the way he liked it. "I used to get very sad," she sighed. "About not remembering my past."
"You too?" Squall asked. He really liked the way she did that. Touching her, being with her.
"Yeah," she continued, "I went asking around. Headmaster Cid, my friends, step parents, even you, remember?"
Squall remembered. She was crying that day. The first day the two of them met. She was crying, because she couldn't remember.
"You guys helped a lot. Then I realized. What does it matter if I can't remember the past? What if the past was something I had better not think about? I already knew where I belong, and that," she placed a finger on his lips, "is with you."
(okay....how's my story so far!? R and R please!)
Nothing but peace and calmness, and no one to annoy him. Squall was sleeping in his room. The way the sun shone in a little kept it warm, and the cooling breeze from the air conditioner was rather relaxing. Ignoring all problems in life, he fell asleep.
It was a dream. A really weird one.
He was running. Everywhere was dark, and nothing could be seen. But he still ran. Why was he running? Like the spotlights lighting up at the baseball stadiums, a bright light descended on the ground, right in front of him. A little girl, blonde hair, and crying, was in that circle of light. Squall felt bitter. For some reason he didn't want to see her crying. He reached out for her. Then he stopped. He looked at his own hands. They were little, like the ones of a child around the age of 14. Touching his face, he felt, it was smoother, and smaller even. The girl kept on crying, despite his presence. Squall, looking back at her, kneeled down. His heart ached. He didn't want her to cry.
"Why are you crying he asked her." His voice was child like. Somehow it didn't surprise him. "Please don't cry."
The little girl faced him, "Who are you?" she said, wiping off her tears.
"Me?" Squall pointed to himself. "I'm Squall."
"That's a funny name," she laughed in between little sobs.
Squall felt happier. She wasn't crying now.
"What's your name?" he reached out to hold her hand. Just as he touched it, everything went up in a flash.
His eyes opened. He was lying on his bed, back inside his dorm. It was already at night, and the window was open , letting in the chilled air. Squall got up. His head felt really giddy. What was that dream? His heart felt very bitter, aching, as if crying over something. Shutting the windows, he moved to his desk. A sudden faint came to him. Feeling weak, he collapsed to the floor. His hands, uncontrollable, brought down along the pens and files on his desk, together with the Gunblade casing, with his precious Revolver inside. They all fell on him, but luckily none caused him serious injury.
"Gah," slowly, he got up. Dusting off fragments of pencils and ink from his shirt, he looked down on the floor. The Revolver had came out of its casing. Not wanting any accidents, he bent down to pick it up. Grabbing the revolver by its handle, he slowly admired how much this weapon meant to him. His first Seed mission, it was there to be wielded, hacking off countless enemies. Rather then him protecting her, The Revolver felt more like it was the sole credit that protected Rinoa. Against all odds, this fine work of art, was never remodeled. Squall had bought another one, and refined it many times, till it reached the maximum level of the Lionheart. The Lionheart, the mightiest weapon he had, was still in his possession. But the Revolver. It meant more to him then a lot of stuff.
Then he felt it. A little deep cut into his precious Gunblade. There was a carving ust underneath the handle. Squall, concerned of it's marksmanship, quickly scanned for it. He found it. It was rather amazing how he didn't notice, for, neatly engraved under his sword, was the initials, H.M.
"H.M?" Squall cursed under his breath, "how did this happen?"
The phone rang. Squall, carefully letting down the weapon, picked it up.
"Yeah?" he answered. This had better be good.
It was DR. Odine, "We haz done it."
In Esther, Squall and Rinoa were waiting in Laguna's office. They were called all the way from Balamb to experience this wonderful discovery.
"Think it'll work this time?" Rinoa asked. She was sitting on the couch.
Squall, leaning against a wall, wasn't confident in Odine, "I doubt it. He'll never pull it off."
After a few minutes, Laguna came in, with DR. Odine by his side.
"Evening," Laguna spoke. His hair was pretty messy, and moustache unshaved for a week. Odine was neat and a fashion horror as usual.
"You better make sure it works," Squall walked towards Laguna, "I hate traveling."
Odine laughed, "I assure you, zer iz nothing to be doubtful about."
"When can we try it?" Rinoa asked.
"Az soon as pozzible."
"Great."
A Guardian's Memory. This was an article written by Laguna. It was based on the theory of how GF user's would slowly forget and lose his memories. He interviewed many people and did research, finalizing in his epic book. The news shocked the world. It was now proven.
But this had brought a bad name to Garden. Many Seed's have dropped the use of GFs, concerned of their memory. Squall, worried of Garden's business, had asked the Republic of Esther to help find a cure. After many months of patience, it was done.
"Ze memory is never lost." Odine spoke, as he attached some cable onto Squalls bare chest. They were in a test room, with Squall as the volunteer. It is merely locked away. For ze brain is no mere 'hard drive'. Zu cant just 'delete' a memory. It stayz, forever."
"Shut up and start," Squall cocked.
Odine nodded. He pulled a few switches, and ZAP. Squall went unconscious.
It felt like Hyne had dropped the entire planet on his head. First there was pain, then slowly, peace. It was like in the theatres. A whole gallery stood in front of him. Images and clips of his entire life. But none he could remember. He would have to watch, one by one.
"Hillary," Squall knocked on the door. He was in tears, and very depressed. "Hillary," he knocked again. "Open up, please..."
The door swung open. A little girl, aged 14, with blonde hair and perfect blue eyes was inside. It was the same girl he just dreamt about! Who is she?
"Squall," she spoke, in deep concern, "what's wrong?" She took him in her arms, and hushed him.
"I can't remember..." Squall wept. "Not a thing."
Hillary brought him in and closed the door behind her. She took him to the bed, and sat him down.
"About what?" she stroked his face.
"My past."
Hillary kept quiet for awhile. It was normal for students to be like that. Most of them were orphans, their parents horribly taken from them since their infant age. Even she couldn't remember hers.
"You know," She sat next to him, and laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling up, the way he liked it. "I used to get very sad," she sighed. "About not remembering my past."
"You too?" Squall asked. He really liked the way she did that. Touching her, being with her.
"Yeah," she continued, "I went asking around. Headmaster Cid, my friends, step parents, even you, remember?"
Squall remembered. She was crying that day. The first day the two of them met. She was crying, because she couldn't remember.
"You guys helped a lot. Then I realized. What does it matter if I can't remember the past? What if the past was something I had better not think about? I already knew where I belong, and that," she placed a finger on his lips, "is with you."
(okay....how's my story so far!? R and R please!)